


The Deep Dish Cliche

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Laura Hale, Alpha Scott McCall, Bad Puns, M/M, Meddling Laura, Miscommunication, Oblivious Derek, Pizza Deliverer Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Flirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek opened the door and saw... not what he expected.</p>
<p>It was a delivery guy, yes, but this was one of those pizza delivery guys from porn.  The dude who shows up and the customer doesn't have enough money to pay so an "arrangement" is worked out, or maybe the door's open and he walks in on an orgy already in progress or something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deep Dish Cliche

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on this Text from Last Night tweet: https://twitter.com/TFLN/status/577228285928697856/photo/1

The doorbell rang and Derek's stomach let out a loud rumble. He sighed and was thankful Laura wasn't around to bring up any comparisons to Pavlov.

He grabbed his wallet and thumped down the stairs to the door. He could see the pizza guy on the other side, holding two keep-warm bags and a couple paper bags on top with two two-liter bottles of soda perilously balanced on top.

He opened the door and saw... not what he expected.

It was a delivery guy, yes, but this was one of those pizza delivery guys from porn. The dude who shows up and the customer doesn't have enough money to pay so an "arrangement" is worked out, or maybe the door's open and he walks in on an orgy already in progress or something. 

Or maybe one of those "twink next door" type films where the guy shows up to borrow a shower because he just moved in next door but his water doesn't work yet so can he borrow Derek's and—what?

"Pizza?"

"What?" Derek repeated aloud.

"Did you order pizza?" the delivery guy asked, hefting up the order. 

Derek flushed and shook his head to clear it, then nodded.

"So... was that a yes or no?"

"Sorry!" Derek barked, feeling more flustered. "Yes. Yes, I ordered pizza."

"Awesome," the guy ( _Stiles_ read his name tag that was clipped crookedly on his shirt) replied with a grin. A wide, honest, open grin that lit up his whole face. He had soft, even lips, amazing skin with moles everywhere like a constellation Derek wanted to learn. He was as tall as Derek with hair that might look like that on purpose if Derek couldn't tell from smell that he had no product in it at all.

And his hands... Derek looked down where Stiles was holding the keep-warm bags and felt his lips twitch a little. His fingers were long and slender, capable and strong. They looked warm and not just because they were carrying three extra large pizzas, two orders of wings, some garlic bread and—

"Sorry," Derek said again, blinking his way out of his stupor. Stiles balanced the order in one hand while he snagged the payment machine off his belt and handed it to Derek, already programmed with the amount.

"Having a party?" Stiles asked in a light tone, shifting the order in his arms. 

Distracted while trying to work the machine Derek mumbled, "No." 

"Cool, cool," Stiles replied, nodding his head. "Dinner for two, then?"

Derek was working through the machine's prompts and shook his head. He was trying to quickly figure out the tip and then balance it with the order amount so it all worked out evenly but thought, _fuck it_ , and tipped him $20 even on top of the order.

It was just easier than figuring out the amount. It was. It had nothing to do with how much Derek wanted to run his hands through Stiles' hair and see how strong his hands actually were.

Shut up.

"Need your receipt?" Stiles asked while they did the hand off of food for the machine. Derek shook his head and Stiles stuck the machine back on his belt without even looking at what he was tipped. "Cool. See you around!"

Stiles started down the front steps but then stopped and turned back, climbing back up slowly. Derek was half in the doorway and watched him, confused.

"Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy," Stiles started with a wide grin. "But I already have your number, can I call you maybe?"

Derek stared at Stiles blankly.

Stiles shrugged. "You know that song? Popular a couple years ago? And I have your number here?" Stiles waved the delivery slip in his hand.

Derek blinked.

"Right. Okay. Uh, never mind. I'll just be going, then," Stiles said in a rush. Backed off the steps, nearly fell off it, caught himself and hurried off to his car as fast as he could without running.

Derek stared after him, totally bewildered. It wasn't until he got back in the house and put the food down that he realized, too late, that the cute pizza delivery guy was asking him out. He looked down at himself and registered that he was wearing old sweat pants from school, a tank top that had definitely seen better days and was barefoot.

"Jesus Christ, Derek," he sighed to his empty house.

***

Stiles mumbled to himself the whole way back to Joe's, the pizza place he delivered for. He parked in the front and rushed inside with his bags for the next order but a quick shake from Scott's shaggy head and Stiles knew he could sit for a moment.

He grabbed the automatic payment unit from his belt and took a seat on a stool at the counter so he could print off the last record to record it while he had a moment. When it finally came out (D. Hale, the order was listed under, he couldn't even give the dude a first name) the and he stared at it he blinked.

"Are you kidding me," he muttered to himself.

"What's up?" Scott asked from across the counter where he was using a large, machete-like knife to quickly cut up a pizza before expertly boxing it up.

"This guy tipped me $20," Stiles said, holding up the printout. Scott whistled and turned to grab the next pizza out of the oven, sliding it onto the counter with a metal peel.

"I asked him out," Stiles continued. "I tried, anyway."

"Because of a $20 tip? Dude, you're not _that_ hard up for cash," Scott snorted.

"No, before I knew what he gave me. But this guy, Scott. _This guy_."

"Hot?"

"Like a slice directly from the oven on the roof of your mouth," Stiles replied fervently. He was remembering his mystery customer's stubble, his intense eyebrows, the way he couldn't pin point the exact colour of his eyes when he'd looked up, confused. It definitely wasn't fair that he opened the door wearing a pair of sweat pants and white tank top that didn't hide the fact that his body was _amazing_. 

Scott winced. "I know you're saying he's attractive but the thought of that actually hurts me. He turn you down?"

"Does it look like I have a date any time soon?" Stiles asked, gesturing to himself. "He had a lot of food just for himself. Maybe he got dumped or something. He wasn't having a party and he was alone. Seemed distracted."

"Or he's just a regular guy who splurges on pizza every now and then who didn't want to be asked out by a pizza delivery boy," Scott teased while he boxed the next pizza.

"Man! Pizza delivery _man_ , Scott! Don't you forget it!" Stiles yelled jokingly. Scott put his hands up with a grin and stacked the two pizzas together and slid them over the counter.   
 "You're up. Try to keep it in your pants this time." 

Stiles flipped him off but shoved the boxes in his keep-warm bag and off he went again on another delivery.

***

Three weeks later Derek had all but forgotten about the encounter. 

Except for the part where he hadn't at all and regularly caught himself daydreaming about calling up the pizza place and ordering again and demanding for Stiles to deliver to him. He'd open the door with a flourish and ask him to bring the pizza inside. Maybe because he "forgot" his wallet in the kitchen or maybe because he didn't have any money and then Stiles' hands are all over him, following the path his lips would make—

And then Derek would remember _again_ that a) he watched too much porn and b) he watched shitty porn.

He'd never be able to look Stiles in the face again, anyway, the way he'd made a complete jackass of himself. The dude straight out asked to call him and Derek responded like a cave man. 

_"Closing time,"_ Erica warbled from behind the bar as the last few stragglers left for the night. _"You don't have to go home and I don't care where the fuck you do go."_

"Lovely rendition, Erica," Derek said sarcastically. She beamed at him as she wiped down some glasses.

"When's the pizza getting here?" Laura asked, coming from the back room carrying four huge cases of beer to stock the fridge. One benefit of being surrounded by werewolves— never had to worry about them pulling their literal weight.

"Twenty or less. Sounded busy though, so who knows?" Erica said with a shrug.

Pizza night was a fairly new thing Laura implemented for the pack without knowing anything about what happened to Derek. Sure, they all worked together in the bar, Wolfsbane, that she and Derek owned but that added an extra level of hierarchy to their group that she didn't want to supersede their bond as family.

So a couple times a month, she proposed on nights when they were all working after closing they'd hang out and chill together after closing. 

Derek started putting all the chairs up on the tables to scrub the floors while Boyd hauled empties and trash out the back. After a noisy, busy night the silence when everyone was gone was a relief to Derek and he got lost in his thoughts while he did his job, surround by his pack.

He barely registered Erica answering the pounding on the front door and the call of, "Pizza!". Instead a scent did, over that of the huge order of food that would be overwhelming any other time.

He threw the mop in the bucket with a splash and turned around quickly, coming almost face to face with Stiles.

"You!" Stiles pointed at him. The others all froze. Laura with her hand in her wallet, Erica shifting the pizzas to the counter and Boyd in the doorway to the back exit.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You," he replied mildly. His heart was beating a quick pace and he knew it was useless to even hope the others would turn a deaf ear to it. He could already see the wheels in Erica's head turning from behind Stiles.

"Guess this time it is a party," Stiles said with a small smile. 

"No, we're just—"

"Having a party, yes!" Laura cut in. "And you should stay for it!"

"Laura," Derek warned but Stiles waved his hand.

"Uh, thanks but I'm done for the night, actually. You were my last order on the way home. Got an early morning."

"Pizza places open in the morning?" Derek asked, curious despite himself, then mentally slapped himself at how stupid he sounded.

"Classes. Eight am Cyber Incident Analysis and Response seminar, to be exact. Lucky me," Stiles replied with a wry smile. Derek couldn't help it if his mouth dropped open a little. 

"You're a big ‘ole nerd just like my little bro, here," Laura laughed and stepped forward to muss up Derek's hair. Derek flushed and fell silent, watching while Laura paid Stiles in cash, including a substantial tip, he noticed.

"Oh?" Stiles asked, cocking his head.

Derek stayed quiet and staring. He felt so out of place and uncomfortable with the pack watching him.

"Derek's the strong, silent type. He likes to spend his days looking through mouldy old books and ‘preserving knowledge'," Laura said with exaggerated air quotes but in a gentle teasing way that did nothing to lessen the red Derek could feel creeping across his skin.

Stiles tilted his head and waited for Derek to explain. With a sigh Derek said, "I'm getting my master's degree in archival studies."

"That's cool! What'd you get your undergrad in?"

"History with a specialization in modernity."

"And what do you want to be when you grow up?" Stiles asked with a grin.

Derek blushed. "There's some personal projects I want to focus on."

"Mysterious," Stiles said with a wink. "I like that."

Derek flushed again but for a totally different reason this time. He could feel the rest of the pack behind him, supporting him.

But then Stiles shouldered his keep-warm bag. "Anyway—"

"Stiles, you okay?" A guy with floppy dark hair poked their head in the front door Erica left unlocked. Derek could immediately tell that he was an alpha.

The guy stepped in, cautiously. "Anything wrong?" Laura took a step toward Derek while Erica and Boyd tensed, now on high-alert.

Stiles grinned, oblivious to the sudden shift in the room. "Yeah, Scott. Just finishing up here. Thanks, guys, got to get this one home to bed before he gets cranky," Stiles said with a jerk of his head to the other guy who continued to watch them all warily.

"I'll see you around?" Stiles said, seeming to direct his question to Derek only. Derek wasn't sure what to say or do because the fleeting moment of _maybe_ was exploding inside him like a shrapnel bomb.

He nodded.

"Cool. Thanks for your business, have a good night!" Stiles said to everyone with a wave.

Everyone in the bar watched him walk away, following the other alpha and waited until long after the door closed behind them before anyone said anything.

"Derek—" Laura started as she stepped forward and put her hand on his back.

" _Don't_ ," he snarled. He walked around the counter, disappeared into the back and the sound of the alley door slamming echoed in the quiet bar.

***

"Are you okay?" Scott asked as they drove away from the bar. Stiles had an odd smile on his face and was humming under his breath.

"Yeah, why?"

"That was bar full of werewolves," Scott replied slowly.

Stiles frowned. "Only four."

Scott sniffed lightly. "You _like_ one of them!" Scott exclaimed.

"Yeah, and? Remember a couple weeks ago I told you about that guy who tipped me really well and he was super hot?"

Something clicked in Scott's memory and he nodded as it came back to him. "Ohhh, right. Pizza-burn-on-the-roof-of-your-mouth-hot guy! You didn't say he was a werewolf."

Stiles shrugged but then thought about it. "Guess I didn't think about it. You know anything about them?"

"Stiles, just because I'm a werewolf doesn't mean I know all of them," Scott replied, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry, just asking."

"But... I do know it's a pack that runs the bar we were just at," Scott said, grinning. Stiles groaned and punched his arm lightly.

"What _else_ do you know, smartass?"

"Quiet pack, good group. Laura Hale is their alpha and she's pretty cool from what I hear. I've never met her but I've heard about her. She's got a brother, must be the one you're hot for. Used to be a bigger pack but they had some shit go down and now they're a small, tight group and run the bar. Friendly enough, I guess."

"Cool," Stiles replied. "Think I've got a shot?"

Scott turned in his seat to appraise his best friend. "If he's got two eyes he can see you're not bad looking and _I'd_ date you if it was like that with us. The real question is if he's good enough for _you_ ," Scott said, taking Stiles' question seriously.   
 Stiles reached out and squeezed Scott's thigh briefly. "S'why you're my best friend, dude."

Scott grinned so wide Stiles had no choice but to smile back.

***

"Will you get that, Derek? It should be the Chinese food!" Laura yelled from the kitchen. "Money's on the table by the door!" Derek grunted a little, not really wanting to move from the couch, but was up and across the floor before she could yell at him.

He had a feeling of deja vu as he approached the door, snagging the bills as he went. Through the door panes he could just see the top of a head, standing outside.

Just.

As soon as the door started to swing open he knew. Even over the pizza smell wafting to him Derek could pick his scent out over anything else.  
 Stiles stood on the step, staring down at the delivery slip in his hand. He looked up once Derek cleared his throat, wide-eyed and shocked.

"Uh," Stiles managed.

"Laura!" Derek yelled, making Stiles wince. Derek felt instantly horrible because Stiles looked like he wanted to drop the delivery and run from Derek's tone.

Laura bounded down the hall, wide grin on her face. "Yay, pizza."

"Laura," Derek repeated, this time quieter but much, much lower. "You said Chinese food."

Laura plucked the money out of Derek's hand and shoved it into Stiles' fingers before snagging the whole order. "I said _should be_ Chinese food. Keep the change," she told him with a wink. To Derek, "Invite your cutie over for leftovers when his shift is done."

Derek felt his cheeks redden and he wanted to thump his head against the door frame. Stiles shifted back and forth on the step, looking incredibly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know—" Derek started as Stiles said, "I should go."

"Please don't," Derek said quickly. "I mean, I'm sorry. For everything. At the bar? And today," Derek said his words haltingly, and grew more embarrassed as he struggled to get a sentence out.

"Why? You have nothing to be sorry for," Stiles replied with a shake of his head, confused.

"I didn't know you were already with someone!" Derek exclaimed, the words bursting from him just short of a yell and he covered his face with his hand. 

There were monasteries in Tibet who probably needed archival services for their scrolls and stuff, right?

"Uh... what?" 

Derek looked up and Stiles was staring at him, brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"The night at the bar you left with that other guy," Derek started slowly, feeling stupid then, as Stiles' face relaxed and a small smile crept across his face, a little hopeful.

"My best friend?" Stiles replied. "We live together and work at Joe's."

"So you're not interested in him," Derek said, more for his own benefit, then cocked an eyebrow when Stiles started laughing.

"His girlfriend would fight me for him, and would likely win," Stiles explained. "She's a kitsune with baller katana skills."

Stiles dropped that bit of information so casually Derek wondered if he even realized what he said. "A kitsune?" Derek repeated delicately.

"Yeah," Stiles said simply with a shrug. Derek was blown away by how casual Stiles was announcing this, like he knew—

"I'm a werewolf!" Derek said suddenly. 

 Stiles blinked. "O...kay?"

"I wasn't having a party the first time you showed up. I'm just a werewolf," Derek finished lamely.

"And instead of eating full grown deer you scarf down three pizzas at a time, got it," Stiles replied, gleam in his eye. Derek opened his mouth to protest because werewolves very rarely actually ate any game but Stiles held up a hand while laughing. "Dude, I know. I know all about your insatiable appetites."

Derek was going to reply but then caught Stiles' phrasing. "And what kind of appetite do you think I need ... satiated?"

Stiles' eyes widened along with his grin. "You could tell me or..."

"Or?" Derek pressed.

Stiles leaned in, stretching his neck as he did and angling it in a way he _had_ to know what he was doing to Derek. "You could show me. Maybe over dinner? Preferably not pizza," he added quickly. "Although there is something to be said about playing with the pizza delivery guy cliche..."

Derek's mouth went dry and his palms sweaty. It was the oddest sensation and his heart pounded in his chest.

"Say yes, dickhead!" Laura yelled from inside the house.

Derek cursed while Stiles grinned and Laura cackled.

And he said yes.


End file.
